Moments of Clarity
by Somnambulista
Summary: JJ has her dream wedding to Spencer, the man she loves more than anything - but not all good dreams last. How far will he go for her?
1. The Wedding, Part One

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters except for the original creations; this writing is not for profit and is only meant as enjoyment for other readers.**

_Dr. and Mrs. Reid._

_Spencer and Jennifer._

_Spence and JJ (or was it JR?)_

_Mrs. Spencer Reid._

She rolled the names around in her head. Behind her, Penelope and Emily were straightening their dresses out and adding the final touches – earrings, a hair ribbon, a quick swipe of lipgloss.

"JJ?" Emily said, her voice soft. She felt a tap on her shoulder and turned to face her raven-haired friend. Emily smiled, but her eyes were questioning. "Are you ready?"

JJ took a deep breath. "I only want to do this once," she confessed, gesturing to the window outside of the lovely country home where her wedding was about to take place. Even if it was a small, private ceremony, the planning had been extremely hard between case work, and the expenses had gotten a little out of hand. It wasn't a bad experience, but she didn't hope to repeat it.

"You're marrying an amazing man, JJ," Garcia chimed in. "You will never have to do this again except when you decide to renew your vows." She smiled softly, holding out the bouquet of light purple calla lilies and white roses for JJ to take.

"I know," she acknowledged. "I'm just... scared." It was a confession that she had not yet made to anyone, and she'd been hiding it well behind the stress of making the wedding plans come together properly.

"Oh, my darling," Garcia cooed. She swept JJ and Emily both into a hug, and they stayed like that for a few seconds. The three of them were roused from their brief moment of comfort as there was a sharp rap on the door.

"JJ, are you ready?" the voice asked through the window. The door cracked slightly and Derek Morgan stuck his head in. Instantly, his eyebrows raised. "Oh my," he said, a grin playing at his lips. He pushed the door the rest of the way and entered the room. "Turn around, let me get a look at you," he said, making a spinning motion with his finger.

Penelope and Emily released JJ from the group hug and she did as she was asked, the strapless Pnina Tornai mermaid dress grazing the ground gently as she twirled. "Do you like it?" she asked. Only Prentiss and Garcia had seen it; she'd kept it (and the price tag) a secret from everyone else. Where their ceremony had been small, the dress was a luxury she allowed herself.

"I do, indeed," Morgan said, his eyes traveling the length of the gown. "And I don't even want to know how much you paid for it. Hopefully our baby girl here found you a good deal," he said, reaching over to wrap an arm around Garcia with a fond glance at her.

"She is a little bit of a fast talker, isn't she?" JJ asked, causing the room to laugh in accord.

"Okay," Prentiss said. "I hate to cut this tender moment short, but I can see Spencer down there and he's starting to fidget. He's got that look on his face like he thinks he's about to get stood up." She glanced up from the window and started to usher the group to the door.

As JJ made her way down the aisle, she couldn't help but think that she had never imagined standing in this position. When she'd met Spencer, he'd seemed so awkward, frightful, almost anti-social in so many ways – but over the course of their relationship, he had totally blossomed. He was still inherently the same, but it was almost as though he had come into his own, and within him he possessed a sort of lion's strength that few people ever got to see. His team, of course, knew his value, but for outsiders, it was hard to imagine the timid doctor with the long, mousy brown hair and doe eyes ever having that sort of confidence or commanding presence.

"You look..." Reid trailed off, his brown eyes wide with amazement as his bride came to stand beside him before the minister. "Exquisite," he finally decided, though JJ knew he'd gone through every word he knew, trying to pick the best one.

JJ smiled, closing her eyes and thanking his compliment, almost forgetting to give Emily her bouquet in the process. She did so just as the minister had cleared his throat and everyone had seated themselves. As the elderly father began to speak, JJ felt her his words become drowned out, replaced only by the beating of her heart. She could feel her hands begin to shake and tried to slowly clasp them behind her back to prevent herself from fidgeting.

She felt Spencer's warm hand atop her own, and glanced over at him quickly. He took her right hand in his left, twining his fingers through hers. "It's okay," he mouthed to her, and gave her hand a light squeeze. She could feel herself calming simply by his touch, and that was when she knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that she had made the right choice.


	2. The Lie

_There's something I have to tell you._

_Spence, I've got something to tell you._

_Spencer, sit down. We need to talk._

_I think we need to discuss something._

Jennifer pushed away from her desk and looked up at the empty room. The bull pen was as it always had been – cluttered. Garcia was in her office up the stairs, and Jennifer could hear the tap-tapping of keys as she searched this or looked up that. Morgan was down the hall in Hotch's office, and Prentiss and Reid were interviewing a witness in town regarding some follow-up work for a closed case. There had definitely been a lull in the day for everyone – everyone but Jennifer.

Her morning had started off like any other – the alarm clock went off at 6:45 AM, and she rolled over to hit snooze. Her husband was already up, she could tell by the scent of coffee wafting down the hallway and into the bedroom, and she heard quick shuffling footsteps as he darted in to stop her before she turned the clock off.

"No no no no!" he urged, catching her hand before she could stop the alarm. He clicked it into the off position and sat down on the bed next to her, ignoring her tired moan as she flopped over into the pillow. "Come _on_, Jen, we talked about this. You said you wanted to get up and go running this week, and it's _Wednesday _and you still haven't. I've had to go by myself twice and it's _cold_ outside."

She felt it was difficult to shut his voice out, and she rolled back over to stare at him. At least he hadn't turned on the bedside lamp and blinded her yet – Oh, no, there it was. With a click, she was struck by the bright light, and squealed as she tried to pull the blanket over her face.

"No!" he said again, and despite hearing his voice edged in laughter, she felt the blanket being tugged away from her. She tightened her grip on it, but the struggle got her blood flowing, and by the time he'd almost gotten it off of the bed entirely, she had sprung up and snatched it back, taking both the blanket and him down onto the bed. She squirmed up so that she was laying on top of him from the chest up, burying her face into his neck.

"Five more minutes," she pleaded. She could feel his chest rising and falling rapidly as he laughed, and she began to laugh, too, in spite of herself. "_Fine_, fine, I'm up. Just give me a minute to find my clothes and we can go."

He tucked his head down and planted a kiss into her hair. "Already put them on top of the dresser for you. Your shoes are by the door." He pushed her off of him and slid off of the bed. As he stood up, he pointed a finger at her. "I swear, if you aren't at that door standing next to me in five minutes, I am going to come back in and dump water on you."

"I have every confidence that you believe that will be how that will play out for you," she informed him. At his blank stare, she smiled a tired smile, conveying the harm she planned to do if he actually came into their bedroom with a glass of ice water and attempted to fling it all over their bedspread.

"Five minutes," he reminded her. He crawled onto the bed on one knee, the other leg out to balance himself, and gave her another kiss.

After he'd gone, she got out of bed and picked up the clothing he'd set out for her. She couldn't help but smile again. How had she gotten so lucky? She certainly didn't deserve the small things he did for her. She made a mental note to tell Garcia when she got to work; no doubt the blonde would melt at the idea. She also made a mental note to push Derek into inviting Garcia to dinner that weekend. Their relationship had always been a casual, endearing sort of flirting, but Jennifer suspected that Morgan wanted to take a step forward, and Penelope was still sort of at a loss regarding Kevin. She could sense the woman was ready to move on, but didn't think she had time – or anyone to move on with.

She went into their spacious bathroom and laid the clothing down on the counter in the generous space between the two sinks. The sinks were large enough that, on occasion when they went to nice events (charity balls, plays), Spencer had actually caught his wife _sitting_ in the sink in a squatted sort of position applying her makeup. He had immediately begun to compare her to some sort of cat, but she'd threatened to spray him with her leave-in conditioner and he'd left her to her devices.

She brushed her teeth and simultaneously began stripping out of her pajamas, leaving them in a puddle on the floor. It was so cold since her warmth under their thick blankets had been interrupted that she'd switched from her usual satin chemise (she had several, courtesy of Prentiss and Garcia giving her gift certificates to lingerie stores in order to "knock his socks off") to flannel pajamas (and what she didn't mention to the girls was that Spencer liked those _more_). Standing in just her cotton pink-and-white striped boy-shorts, she moved from the sink, making an honest effort not to drip toothpaste all over the floor. She quickly dipped back into the bedroom to grab her phone, which she pulled off of the charger and began scrolling through.

She finished with her teeth and went about the rest of her quick routine – since she was about to go running, she skipped her morning shower – and took the stairs two at a time. She dropped down on the bottom step to slide her running shoes on, smiling up at Spencer as he came around the corner.

"All ready?" he asked, his voice far too perky for the time.

"I think so," she said. She stood up, accepting his offered hand, and opened the door to follow him out. "Oh my gosh!" she exclaimed as soon as she set foot onto their doorstep. "It's like four degrees out here!"

Spencer turned to her and flipped the hood of his sweatshirt up. "Actually, I checked. The thermometer outside the kitchen window says it's twenty-seven. Technically, with the windchill it's twenty, but -" He stopped when he realized that she was staring at him. "You know what? It's freezing. It's below freezing. Let's go. We'll make a quick lap around the block and see how we feel. Good?"

"We'll see, indeed," she muttered. She watched him start to jog down the steps to the sidewalk, and with a sigh, she followed after him.

They ended up doing two laps around the block before she confessed that her nose felt like it was about to fall off, and when they got back inside, she promptly went in for a hug so that she could press said nose against Reid's neck. It got exactly the reaction that she wanted, and she tore away from his storm of "attack kisses" to go upstairs and shower. She took longer than he did to get ready, so while she was blowdrying her hair and choosing shoes, he could do pretty much his entire routine.

She stepped out of the shower, fluffy towel wrapped firmly around herself, and dried her feet off on the bathroom rug. Quickly, she navigated her way to the bedroom door and called out to Spencer, who was in his office down the hall.

"Your turn!" she hollered.

"Okay!" came the reply. "Hey, Jen? Don't forget it's almost Valentine's Day. If you want to have that small get-together, you need to try and make reservations before the end of today." His voice got closer and he finally emerged in the bedroom, moving to lean on the bathroom doorframe as she snapped her bra into place.

"Wait, what?" she said suddenly, turning to him with a surprised expression. Her mouth hung slightly open as though something had startled her, and her blue eyes were uncharacteristically wide.

"Well, it isn't _that_ big of a deal. I mean, I can cook, and I know Derek can. I'm sure we can come up with something if you'd rather not go out. I mean, _I'd_ be okay either way, but I know you said you wanted an excuse to wear that red dress I picked out for you for Christmas... What?" He paused, realizing she wasn't thinking about Valentine's Day. "Jen? Honey, what's wrong?" he asked, pushing off of the doorframe and approaching his wife. He placed one hand on her hip while the other rested gently on her cheek.

She blinked several times, her lashes fluttering as she gave her head a slight shake. "Sorry, I just – sorry," she said again. She shifted her eyes away from his and blushed, much to her husband's concern. "It's nothing, I just remembered I had some paperwork due, and it slipped my mind until you just reminded me." She placed her hand on the one he had on her face, leaning into it and gave him a reassuring smile. "It's nothing. I promise."

Spencer studied her for a minute, then returned her smile, though his was much less. "Okay..." he said, moving to pass her so that he could take a shower.

"Hey," she said, catching him by the hand as he passed her. She pulled him to her very suddenly, grabbing the back of his neck and tangling her fingers within his hair, and kissed him. It was not like their usual casual kisses; it was deeper, more passionate.

"What was _that_ for?" he asked as she took a step back and began heading for the bedroom.

"I just love you," she said sincerely. "Now hurry up, or we're going to be late."

As soon as she'd gotten to work, she'd excused herself to run across the street and grab some apple juice – thankfully, Garcia had also wanted some, so she didn't have to lie. There, she bought a pregnancy test and did it right in the grocery store bathroom. She hated that she had to do it there, but when Spencer had reminded her of the date, she realized that she was a month and a few days late on her period. Now, due to job stress and the fact that she was fairly athletic, her period could be erratic at times, but for the last few months, it'd been pretty on track.

Normally, it wouldn't have scared her, but she knew for a fact that around Thanksgiving she and Spencer had finished two bottles of wine between a dinner party they'd hosted and then after by the fireplace, and – needless to say, it had slipped her mind. She didn't know if she was ready to be a mother, and she _damn_ sure didn't know if Spencer had any thoughts he'd like to weigh in. It wasn't something they'd discussed recently. They'd been married for two years, and she didn't have a moment in the day where she felt as though she'd made the wrong decision. But, suddenly a child put things in a different perspective. She knew that they had talked about having a family in the future – but they were both under thirty still (she was twenty-eight and he was twenty-five) and they both had a very high stress job (at least once or twice a week, one woke the other up with nightmares, but they had gotten less and less bad for Jennifer personally after she realized that Reid would always be there when she awoke), and speaking of _job_, Jennifer might end up getting benched altogether if she got big enough. She couldn't imagine not going into the field, not helping people. How much would this impact her job, her marriage, or her alone?

None of that mattered now, because that test was positive.

And now, Jennifer was sitting at her desk, case files scattered around her, and she wasn't reading any of them. She was _looking_ at them, but she'd essentially read the same sentence over and over again for the last hour. She was trying to determine how and when to tell Spencer, or even if she _wanted _to. She thought about talking to Garcia about it first, but she'd been busy and Jennifer hadn't wanted to bother her. She hadn't even heard Reid come up behind her, and jumped when she felt a tap on her shoulder.

"Hey, can I talk to you for a second?" he asked.

She let out a slow, shaky sigh and pushed back from her desk. "Sure," she offered. "What's up?"

Spencer nodded, clearing some of his hair behind his ear. "Not here," he said. He didn't look happy about whatever it was, and she only assumed it was about what he and Prentiss had been doing – or maybe something worse. Spencer had developed a drug addiction during a case gone bad a few years prior, and every once in a while, he needed to talk about it. Sometimes he talked to Jennifer, sometimes to Hotch, and sometimes to a counselor. Either way, she didn't like the way his body language was as she followed him to the conference room. He was unhappy about _something_.

When she entered the room, he closed the door behind her. He didn't gesture for her to sit, instead pushing the sleeves of his dark blue cable knit sweater up. "Jennifer, when did you decide to start lying to me?" he asked.

Bam.

Her mouth fell open. _This morning_, she realized. She dropped into the chair behind her, thankful for its presence. Her knees were weak. This must have been eating at him all day if he was confronting her about it at work. They never talked about their personal lives at work, not unless it was an emergency. Those were the terms Hotch had laid down – he loved that they were in love, but the minute one of them abused their relationship to put the team at risk, someone was getting transferred. They had both understood and agreed, and they had taken it very seriously.

"What?" she sputtered. She had no ground to stand on. He did the same thing she did, and he was just as good, if not better. His eidetic memory allowed him a luxury she didn't have: he could replay the exact scene in his head over and over, analyzing it in sequence bit by bit until he was satisfied he had all of the information.

"In the bathroom, Jen. Listen, I know that you and I agreed we'd never profile eachother, and that's fine, and I don't feel like this entirely qualifies, but it's a little hard to overlook something when you do it right to my _face_." He didn't quite glare at her so much as stare in an unflinching manner, but what he was regarding her with wasn't anger. It was sadness – and hurt.

"Spence," she whispered. By confronting her, he'd taken her control away. She had no choice but to tell him; it was either that or lie, and lying again would obviously only upset him more. She hated that she had hurt him so badly right then, and it made her chest ache in a way she hadn't felt in a long time. She had stalled out, unsure of how to proceed. She didn't want to tell him like _this_. She'd wanted to sit down and think about it, think about what she wanted, what would be best. She closed her eyes, unable to stop them from watering up.

When Spencer realized she was about to cry, he couldn't help the panic that welled up inside of him. His first thought was immediately the worst, despite knowing logically that if she had done something as horrible as cheating, he'd have seen the signs already. But what else could she be hiding from him? Was he really the type of person that could react in such an unfavourable way that his own wife, who he loved more than _anything_, would have to _lie_ to him to avoid the fallout?

"What is it?" he pressed, forcing his own voice out. He made himself sound more fierce than he actually felt, a defense mechanism that he seldom used because it never yielded positive results. He was still on the worst-case scenario, though, and he was fairly certain that if he steeled himself enough, she wouldn't be able to hurt him any worse than she already had.

"Oh, Spence," she said, dropping her face into her hands. She was c_rying_ now, a pretty rare sight as far as her husband was concerned. He knew she did it from time to time – everyone had to. It was healthy, and it released quite a bit of stress, but she always did it alone. She'd even told him so once. But rarely did she break apart in front of someone so thoroughly, and it was really making him panic.

She said something that he didn't understand, and he dropped down in front of her, trying to get her hands away from her face. "What's _wrong_?" he pressed, his vocal tone softening considerably. "Please, Jen. Please, tell me," he soothed.

"I think I'm pregnant," she managed to get out in between sobs.

"What?" he asked, his eyes widening.

"I'm more than a month late. You mentioned something about the date this morning and it occurred to me, but I didn't want to just _say that_, so I took a pregnancy test a little while ago and it came out positive. I didn't want to tell you like this. I wanted to wait and make sure first, but you cornered me," she explained, her voice breaking off at the end as she started to cry again.

"Hey... look at me," he urged. "Jen, look at me." He reached up and put a hand under her chin, forcing her to fix her eyes on him. "I'm so sorry. I should have known you had your reasons. I know we promised not to analyze eachother, it was just such an obvious lie and I – I don't know, some days I'm still not sure that we're really married because you're so amazing and I'm such a dweeb and _Jennifer_ are you really telling me what you just told me because that's not _bad_ news at all – unless you want it to be bad and then it can be bad but I don't think it's bad, and I – I might be a _dad_," he said, taking a deep breath after his sudden monologue.

She smiled in spite of herself, scrubbing at her eyes to wipe the tears away. "I just didn't know how you'd react. I thought maybe you'd be mad or... I don't know," she said, shrugging it off. "It was stupid."

He closed his eyes for a moment, then leaned in so that his forehead was touching hers. "Please know that there will never be anything you could ever tell me that I would be mad about," he said softly. He rubbed his nose to hers gently. "Okay?" He was feeling a mixture of emotions at the moment, and one of them was definitely surprise at how sometimes Jennifer had no confidence in herself, despite how capable and beautiful of a woman she was. He supposed that this was enough to knock anyone off of their feet, though. He was certainly not standing.

"Okay," she agreed.

"Come on," he said. "Let's go get you some tissues and some hot tea," he suggested. When he saw a flicker of a smile on his wife's face, he smiled himself and offered her a hand. As soon as she was on her feet, he swept her into a hug that he held for several long seconds.

"I'll make an appointment in a while to see the doctor and get a real test," she promised him, burying her face into the shoulder of his sweater. She felt his hands softly stroking at her blonde hair, and found that it had never felt so good before that moment.


End file.
